Fool For Love
by MadeElly
Summary: AdamElle, AU. Adam realizes that he's fallen for his snobby coworker Elle, and as time goes on, they grow closer. Adam's only obstacle that stands in his way is his roommate.


**Summary: **AU Adam and Elle have been working at the same restaurant for a year, and somehow he's fallen for her; as time goes on, they grow closer, until an obstacle comes in Adam's way: his roommate. One-shot, Adam/Elle; Peter/Elle; connotations of Peter/Claire.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Heroes.

**Authoress' Note: **My first Heroes story, written for my friend. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

* * *

Adam hated working a double shift, especially at _this _place. A restaurant, of all places. He was a waiter, and hated dealing with screaming children, fussy parents, and insolent customers daily. He hated the chefs, who, just because they ran a five star restaurant in New York City, thought they could treat him like shit. And most of all, he hated that the job was so boring. Taking orders; delivering orders; taking food back; getting yelled at because the food was not up to par; having to deliver compliments to the chefs; getting lousy tips. It was all too…unexciting for him. Then again, anything less than a life or death situation wasn't exciting enough. Good thing the job paid a lot; Adam liked money. 

Every day, when his classes finished, he went to the restaurant to help open up for dinner. As one of the premier restaurants in New York City, he only had to work dinner. Unfortunately, dinner lasted until two in the morning, sometimes. Eleven hours of pure hell was what he had to go through this day.

His best friend, Peter, would taunt him. Peter was Adam's roommate and classmate, and also related to the prestigious Petrelli family of NYC. Peter didn't have to work for a cent. Maybe _taunt _was too strong of a word: Peter was too kind to taunt, unlike Adam, who loved to taunt Peter concerning his compassion. But Peter would kindly offer Adam financial help, and Adam always refused. Peter's offer of help felt like taunting to Adam, who was independent and could make money on his own.

There was one perk that came with the job: the manager. Sure, she was bossy, conceited, and spoiled: she _was _the daughter of the restaurant owner. But he liked that about her. He liked the way her eyebrows furrowed when someone did something unacceptable, the way her blue eyes glinted even in the warm lights of the restaurant. He loved her long, blonde hair and the way it managed to curl a bit on the bottom. He was greatly amused by the way she scared customers off, which her piercing glare and smirking lips.

"I see that we're out another two hundred dollars because of you, Elle," he said, going up to her in the middle of his break.

She was busy sorting reservations in the _book_. The one that she always seemed to be holding on to, as if it were an extra limb.

"Why don't you just go back to England, Adam? Everyone would be very happy about that." She didn't even look up from her book.

He smirked at her, putting his hand over hers, lifting the pen out of her grip. "We all know that you'd be _very _disappointed about that, love."

Elle's smirk matched his as she leaned forward, putting her free hand on his chest and almost brushing her lips against his. But just as he was about to kiss her full on, she pulled away and snatched the pen out of his grasp.

"Thanks for the pen back, Monroe."

As she walked away, nose buried in reservation book, he cursed silently. He was foolish; completely and utterly foolish. He shouldn't let her manipulate him. But if there was anyone in the world who could make him do whatever they wanted, it would be her.

"Fuck it," he said through grit teeth, glancing over his shoulder at her and then quickly marching back into the kitchen.

* * *

"Daddy, that's not _fair!_" Adam heard her scream in the corner of the closed restaurant. It was late at night, and only he, with a few select members, were closing up. He stopped wiping tables and putting up chairs to listen intently to Elle's screaming fit with her father. 

"Now, sweetheart, I know what you're thinking, but you're only getting an assistant manager because we need to train someone new in case you decide-"

He was cut off by his daughter, who looked close to vicious tears. Adam had never seen her that way, except for the time where an entire group of rich lawyers decided to not pay the bill and were never caught.

"Decide _what?_ I _told _you, I don't want to go to college! I want to do other stuff, not study and shit. You _know _that! You just don't trust me, is what this is. Ugh!" Her voice had started to crack.

"Well, dear, we _have _gotten some reports of carelessness on your part…" he trailed off, obviously feeling his daughter's wrath about to unleash.

But instead of blowing up at him in front of everybody, which is what Adam _expected _would happen, she simply gave a small, broken "hmpff" and ran off, pushing through the large, bronze double doors that sealed the restaurant from the rest of Times Square.

Adam quickly threw his cloth down and ran after her, no idea why he was doing it. She would never want to talk to him; never want to accept his comfort. But he still did it, and found her sitting on the ground a few feet away from the entrance, her head in her knees and her shoulders shaking up and down as she sobbed quietly.

He walked over and slowly sat down next to her. She looked up at him, her mascara running down her cheeks forming thin, black lines. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to put as much spite as she could into her voice. "Come to laugh at me, right?"

Adam said nothing, and soon she put her head back into her knees to resume crying. He slowly and somberly put his hand over her shoulder while she leaned her head against his chest and kept on crying. She grabbed on to his shirt as he started to rub her back, and she did nothing to stop him.

* * *

He had two tickets to _Casablanca _that night, the new NYU production in which some of his friends were acting. Peter had decidedly rejected the tickets, knowing fully well that the production would be overly acted, overly lighted, and overly _terrible_. Adam knew that too, but he had spent a good fifteen dollars on those tickets and didn't want to have wasted the money. 

So he tried to sell them. It appeared that everyone else he knew had as good taste as Peter did and none of them wanted them, even for free. He was trapped. He told himself he could just not go, but something told him that he should. It wasn't school spirit: he was definitely sure of that. Maybe it was just the waste of money. And the fact that it was a Friday night and he had absolutely nothing to do pissed him off. He had no date, no plans, and seemingly no life. Peter was off at a family function, one Adam had objected to going to strongly (the words "over my dead body" were used in the process), so Adam couldn't just hang out with Peter. And for some reason, the rest of his friends were in the show. Adam couldn't understand how his friends got to be so lame.

He eventually decided to work and extra shift at the restaurant. They always needed help on Friday nights and the weekends, and always needed the money. Maybe he could pawn the tickets off to some suckers there.

Getting on his waiter's uniform, which consisted of a stylish black shirt and pair of pants, he went over to the bar, which he would be running tonight. He had just recently turned twenty-one, and had gladly accepted the position as bartender. It was usually very interesting, and he learned a lot about mixing drinks. Plus, the free booze he could sneak home was always very gratifying. Peter enjoyed it too.

Mostly everyone was having a good time that night, and most of the people Adam served were on dates. It would have made him jealous if everyone sitting on the other side of the bar from him weren't complete and total losers. Each seemed so hypocritically wrapped up in their own little lives, it made Adam sick. But he didn't want to waste energy caring about them. So he diligently and orderly took orders and served food and drinks.

Around seven thirty, there were a few extra seats on the far side of the bar. Adam hoped he could pick up a nice, hot girl and take her back to his place: it was most likely that Peter would be staying the night at the Petrelli penthouse, lucky bastard. Adam was glad though: it had been a while since he had had a good fuck.

But instead of some random chick that sat down at the end of the bar, it was none other than Elle, the woman whom he despised more than anything and wanted to like him more than anything. She seemed down, so he delved deep into his pocket, taking out his lighter, leaned over in front of her and lit it.

"Tough night?" he asked, mimicking every movie from the forties he had ever seen. A small smile flashed across her features as she pushed the lighter away.

"If daddy caught you with that in here he'd fire you," is all she said, folding her arms and leaning back in her seat.

"Good thing he won't, then," Adam replied, putting the lighter away. "Anything I can get you?"

"Something strong."

Adam smirked, "If I remember correctly, the strongest you can have is a Red Bull, Ms. I-Just-Turned-Twenty."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, you're _so _reliable. You know, I actually _thought _you'd help me out." A hurt look came on her face. Adam knew she was simply manipulating him, but he didn't care.

He sighed. "Fine, tonight, you're twenty-one. On me." He went to go mix her a Long Island Ice Tea.

She grinned, and Adam could tell she thought she had managed to manipulate him into getting her a drink. In a way, she had, but not the way she thought she was.

A few drinks later, Elle was happy again, having told Adam that her date ditched her for some Latina brunette that recently transferred to Columbia. After a while of talking about that, she asked him, "Hey, Adam, you seeing anyone?"

Well, he was _seeing _her right now, but not in the sense she meant. "No, Elle, I'm not," was all he told her coldly, and she dropped the subject. When she had sobered up Adam would thank her for not taking that as a chance to pry at his life. Although being tipsy was probably the reason Elle was actually acting _human _for once. He quite liked this new her.

"Elle," he sighed. "Were you planning anything for tonight?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes, as she had done repeatedly for the past hour. "What do _you _think. I told you, that guy dumped me without us even going out _once_. How inconsiderate…" she trailed off. "So, yeah. That's me."

"Well, I have two tickets to NYU's production of Casablanca…" he pulled the tickets out, hoping she hadn't heard the rumors yet.

Too late. "You mean the one that everyone says _sucks ass_?" she asked.

"Yeah, that one. Wanna go?" he said as quickly as he could. He told himself that he was just doing this because he wanted to use the tickets and not waste them. Plus, the show didn't start for another thirty minutes. He had time to get there if he could just convince her to—

"Sure."

_Wait. What?_ Adam questioned himself. "What?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I'll go. It'll be better than listening to _you _talk about your _lame-o _life."

That was Elle for you. Always managing to turn something good into an insult. It didn't bother him, though. After a year and a half of knowing her, he had grown impervious to her snide comments, and looked on the bright side, something Adam rarely did.

After quickly getting their coats, telling Jules to take over the bar, he and Elle left the restaurant unnoticed.

They laughed through the entire production, quite loudly, incurring the wrath of many around them. They didn't care though.

And as they neared the restaurant, Elle stopped suddenly. "What?" Adam asked, his hands deeply buried in his pockets.

"This was…this was nice," Elle told him, seeming to choke on the words. "Thanks."

Adam's eyes widened in surprise. He had never expected to hear those words come from her mouth. He nodded, smiling, and slowly she took his arm as they walked back to the restaurant.

* * *

"Adam!" Elle came up to him as he left the restaurant around ten, holding up a bag. "Movie night is at _your _place tonight!" 

Adam groaned. "You're kidding. I told you that my roommate—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I want to see your place, so I got some movies since you don't seem like the type to actually have any movies…" she trailed off, searching through the bag.

"What do you mean, 'not the type'?" he asked, folding his arms in mock huffiness.

"Well, you know. That sort of hermit-Buddhist-monk type," she explained. "Oh, okay. Lemme show you the movies. A bunch of classics: Flashdance, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Alien 3, Buffy the Vampire Slayer—"

Adam cut her off. "Wait, wasn't that a TV show?"

"It was a really crappy movie first," Elle explained.

"Oh, of _course_."

"It's to cure _your_ culture retardation," Elle smirked. "So, let's go. I heard that you and some hot guy share an apartment in SoHo. Having steamy gay sex you haven't told me about, Adam?" she raised an eyebrow.

Adam was both creeped out and humored. "Yes, that's me, the gayest man you've ever known."

"I knew it!" she pumped her fist in the air, the full bag jiggling in her other hand. "But wait—what about whatsherface you've been seeing?"

Adam smirked as they began to walk to the nearest subway. "Rachel? Boring. She was one of those 'let's stay in and watch movies' types," he said, letting a small laugh out at Elle's expense as she pouted.

"No fair," she said, and then smiled. "I get special non-girlfriend treatment. You don't _have _to be partying with me. Just get schooled in movies," Elle said while they entered the station.

Adam felt a sting in his gut as Elle reminded him that they weren't together. His feelings for her had grown in the time they had been friends, and yet, he could never bring himself to make a move. It didn't feel right; it didn't feel safe. What if she didn't reciprocate? It would take forever to regain her trust, if impossible to do so.

"Oh, and the _best _one! A Clockwork Orange!" Elle said ecstatically. "But you've probably seen it…" she said, both getting their metro cards out.

"Never even heard of it," Adam answered, and Elle's jaw dropped in shock.

"You've never heard of or seen 'A Clockwork Orange'? But…but you're British! I thought _all _Brits knew this movie!" she said, and they got on the train, which had just pulled up as they walked on to the platform.

"Apparently not," he told her, as the doors closed and the train started on its way to the West Broadway and Smith street station.

When they got to his apartment building, Elle gaped at the fanciness of the it. "Dude, this is…woah…you rich or something?"

"Me? No, but my roommate is. He's a Petrelli."

Elle's eyes widened even more. "You _serious_? Like…_the _Petrellis?"

"Yep," Adam answered as he dug in his pocket for his pass and key. Once they made it past the front desk, and went up the elevator, they got to his floor. Elle was too busy staring at everything to talk, which Adam felt perfectly comfortable with. He liked her just being with him. He unlocked the door, and went in.

"Pete, I'm back. With a friend," Adam announced, and heard his roommate on the phone.

"Yeah, I gotta go. Love you too, Claire," Peter said, and then hung up.

Elle smirked and whispered, "Claire?" into Adam's ear.

"His niece. They have a very strange relationship," Adam explained as Peter stood up from the large couch in the common area.

"Scandalous," Elle managed to whisper before Peter walked to them. Adam looked from Peter to Elle, and saw both of them looking over the other. He saw the corners of Elle's lips curl up as she looked over Adam's roommate. It was true, Peter was very attractive, with long black hair, a good body, and had a special boyish charm that Adam never seemed able to imitate. This didn't seem like the type of guy Elle would like. OF course, Adam realized, he didn't know what type of guy Elle _did _like. It sure wasn't a guy like him, as Adam had directly experienced.

Elle took one last look at Peter, said "Hi," and then continued to walk around the apartment. She stopped when she came to the place where the pictures were, taking a look at all the memories. There was a picture of a tan-looking girl with long, blonde, curly hair. She pointed at it. "This Claire?"

Peter shot a look at Adam, who shrugged. "She's _adorable_, Pete," Elle said. "I bet you love her _very _much."

"I do," Peter said, unsurely. "She's my niece."

Elle smiled a smile without any hint of smirk in it. She never seemed to smile at Adam that way. "Of course you do." Her words were without sarcasm and irony.

Adam decided to cut the tension, whether it was physical, emotional, or sexual. He guessed it was all three. "So, Elle, are we going to watch a movie?"

"Yeah, of course! You have such a big TV…" she looked at the enormous screen in awe, and then smiled at Peter. "Want to watch with us, Pete?"

Peter hesitated, but then nodded. "Sure," he said, and went to go sit on the couch.

"I can't believe you've never made Adam watch A Clockwork Orange," Elle said, shaking her head.

"Adam's just not a movie guy," Peter said, a smile starting to form on his face. "I can't believe it either, though. I mean, he's British, for God's sake."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Sitting here, you know. No need to speak as if I weren't."

"Right, sorry," Peter said with a sincere nod and pat on Adam's shoulder. Adam knew that bringing Elle here was a bad idea.

Elle put in the movie, shut the lights off, and sat in between Adam and Peter. Adam, instead of watching the movie, watched Elle and Peter, who grew closer and closer every second. During the first fight scene, Peter put his arm protectively over Elle's shoulder, and with a smile on her face, leaned against his chest. Adam felt a twinge of jealousy, but figured nothing more would come of it.

By halfway through Buffy the Vampire Slayer, their fourth movie, Elle and Peter had simply gone from flirting to cuddling to full on making out. He could hear smacking loudly in his right ear as he tried as hard as he could to watch the movie. Making a fist, he stood up, turned the light on and announced, "I'm going to bed."

"But it's so early, Adam," Elle pouted, snuggling close to Peter.

Adam grit his teeth. "I'm not feeling well."

Peter nodded. "Feel better, man."

"Not with _you _around," Adam mumbled as he slammed the door to his room, trying to ignore the sounds the two new lovers made during the night.

* * *

Adam thanked God, whom he didn't even believe him, for a night alone with Elle. Peter had yet again gone to the Petrelli mansion for some family event, and Adam had the chance to just have movie night with Elle. Neither Peter nor Elle seemed to mind that she and Adam were going to be alone. Both were completely oblivious to Adam's feelings. _That's why they're so fucking perfect together,_ Adam thought, sitting down on the couch as Elle put on one of that night's movies. 

As usual, they joked like the friends they were, and made snide comments about the movie. But as they were watching, Elle leaned her head on Adam's chest subconsciously, as she did often with Peter. He cautiously took her hand in his, and she didn't seem to notice. His heart pounded hard against his chest, and was worried that Elle would feel the beating and notice that something was wrong. But she seemed to notice nothing.

As much as he was scared of Elle finding out that something was wrong…that he _felt _something for her, her complete ignorance of his feelings hurt him more. But he exhaled slowly, hoping his heart would slow down, because this would have to do for now.

When the third movie was over, Elle got up to put another one in. "Didn't you like that one, Adam? It was so fucking awesome!" she exclaimed, opening the DVD player.

Adam said nothing in reply. Elle, instead of putting another DVD in, stood up, her hands on her hips, and raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

Adam scoffed, but again said nothing. "Just tell me and stop acting like a spoiled brat," she told him. "You've been this way ever since--" Adam cut her off.

"Ever since you and Peter got together."

"Is that it? You're so jealous that I finally found _someone_ and you're still alone, watching movies with your friend one Friday night? Sorry that I'm not enough," she said, putting the next DVD in.

By this point, Adam couldn't take anymore. He stood up, strode over to her, slipped his arm around her waist and crashed his lips down on her. She was shocked for a moment, but then started to reciprocate, putting her arms around his neck. Finally, she pushed him away.

"You're _more _than enough for me, Elle. Way more than I deserve. But I want _all _of you. I _need _all of you," he told her, feeling his desperation cling to him. There was a stunned look on her face.

"God, how could you have been that oblivious? I've loved you ever since I saw you the first time, when I was applying for a job in the restaurant. I've been so _obvious _about it, so…" he ran his hands through his blond hair as she folded her arms.

"So this is _my _fault? Jesus, Adam, you could have _said _something!" she picked up her coat, sighing.

"And _what?_ Gotten brutally rejected by you? Have you ever _met _yourself, Elle? You can be a real bitch sometimes." Adam didn't mean to say that, but he was in the moment, trying to express his feelings.

"Fine, if that's what you really feel, I'll just leave," she said, getting her coat on and quickly walking to the door.

Her hand was on the doorknob as Adam shouted, "Wait!" He clenched his fists. "Elle…I love you. So much."

She paused, and after a minute, opened the door and walked out, shutting the door fiercely behind her.

Adam felt like he had used all his energy in the last minute and slumped back down on the couch, leaning his head back, sighing. The movie was coming on: The Rules of The Game, was the title. Adam had no idea what it was about, so he scrambled to find the movie box, and read the back.

He threw the box at the wall as soon as he finished the description: college students in love. What shit. He didn't need his life repeated on screen.

But the movie opened with a party, and Adam decided to just let himself go. He actually paid attention, trying to forget about his problems.

Soon later, there was a knocking on the door. He tried to ignore it, but it became more urgent and loud. So he stood up, and went to the door. He didn't even bother looking through the peephole, just figuring it was Peter finally coming home from a family shindig.

But it wasn't Peter at all.

Adam barely had time to comprehend his situation as Elle slammed the door behind her and pressed her lips to his. On reflex, he kissed back, the kisses becoming more urgent and hungry. They kissed each other as if there was no tomorrow, her hands grasping on to his hair and his hands sliding up her back underneath her shirt. He picked her up, both of them still kissing, and laid her on the couch, on top of her. A moan escaped her lips as he slid his tongue into her mouth and rubbed under her shirt. As they both needed to breathe, he quickly went to place fierce kisses down her chin, neck, and collar bone, sliding his hands on to her thigh. She bit her lip as he moved his hands in between her thighs, planting rough kisses on her lips while she bit his lip hard in retaliation.

The party scene in the movie quickly turned into a kissing scene, and then a sex scene, but Adam and Elle didn't even notice the loud sounds coming from the speakers as they provided their own soundtrack to the night.

* * *

"Mmm. Morning," Adam said, turning over in the bed to face Elle, who was smiling at him. Somehow, they had managed to make it to his bed sometime during the night. They smiled at each other, and putting their faces together, gave each other a soft kiss, ending with their noses rubbing together. 

"Oh, God, I can't believe we just did that," Elle said, putting her hands over her eyes. Adam felt a sting of hurt as she said that.

Elle's eyes widened as she realized what she thought he was talking about. "No, not last night. Last night was…perfect. So perfect. I meant the noses rubbing thing. It just seemed so…Disney."

Adam's smile reappeared on his face as he gave Elle a deep kiss, holding her close. He broke it off, and Elle looked at him confusedly.

"Does this mean you'll give me a raise?" he asked, hopeful.

Elle's eyes narrowed. "Nice try, Monroe. Real nice try." She started to get out of bed, but Adam held her down, kissing her again.

They broke apart, Elle's eyes still closed. "Okay, and as good as that was, we have to get to work, remember? Plus…isn't _he _going to be coming back soon?" she asked, and Adam nodded.

"Yeah, right," he said, getting out of the bed.

"I just need to find my clothes…" Elle trailed off, holding the sheet up to her.

"Why are you covering yourself?" Adam asked.

"Embarassed," Elle mumbled, and Adam smirked.

"Didn't seem so last night…" he said, and she stuck her tongue out.

"You suck."

"No, I love you. It's different."

She smiled at him, and sitting back down on the bed, looked him in the eyes and replied, "I love you too."

They serenely got out of bed and got dressed, and Adam groaned as he realized he was taking a double shift today.

But it was going to be alright: because Elle was there. She would be with him, giving him snide comments in the restaurant and steamy kisses in the walk-in fridge.

And Adam was alright with that.

Finally his life had become less boring. Finally he had gotten the one thing he actually _wanted_, with all his heart.

"What're you looking at?" Elle asked, putting her shirt on.

"Mmm. Nothing," Adam smiled.

"Okaaayy…" Elle said, turning around.

"Love you, babe."

"Love you too, Monroe."


End file.
